


A Carnival Ride

by theironfist



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Femslash February, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theironfist/pseuds/theironfist
Summary: A story told in short segments about the ups and downs of coming out and how love can lift you above it all. Based on prompts for FemslashFeb2018.





	1. Carousel

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Carousel

When Rachel was a little girl, she loved to go to the state fairs. All along the walls of her family home are pictures of her, small and sticky-cheeked, with the blur of carnival rides and LED lights behind her. Her memories of the actual events are fuzzy at best, as memories from that far back tend to be, but one thing she does remember is riding on the carousels. What makes the memory stand out to her is how afraid she remembers being—of the strange looking wooden horses, how fast they went around, and the ominous creaking. The pictures of her riding the carousels are all sequestered safely away in the family photo albums, because she's clearly teary-eyed and on the verge of throwing a fit. The only thing ever slightly able to dampen her fear was her father standing by her side, his big hands holding her securely on top of the horse, and the shelter of his body shielding her from the view of the world spinning out of control around her.

As she grew older, she realized that the carousel which seemed to spin too fast for the eye to track moved at an almost glacial pace. Just another embarrassing childhood memory to be tucked away until her mother was laughing over the family album with her aunts at Thanksgiving. As the years passed, her father became more successful, which meant her father became busier, which meant they rarely were able to make the trip to upstate for the fair anymore. As she grew older and begun to drift away from her parents as teenagers often did, this mattered less and less to her. Yet the fear of the world spinning out of control always remained with her.

It wasn't until she was 16, when her eyes refused to stray from the sight of Sandra Moffett reapplying her pineapple scented lip-gloss in third period calculus, that she realized there was more than one way for the world to spin out of her control. She didn't want to accept it at first; she would force herself to try looking at guys the same way she looked at Sandra—trying to imagine kissing them the way she did Sandra, or holding their hand, or pushing her fingers through their hair. The most she could ever imagine was stomaching it, but for a while that was enough, because at home her mother started asking her about boys, her father huffing out that Rachel should hold off on dating until she could find a nice young man at Harvard. They never tried to sit her down like Maddie Barber's parents did to tell her it was okay if she liked girls—not suspicious or accusing, but just to let her know that they loved her no matter what.

She couldn't imagine her parents outright rejecting her or kicking her out like she sometimes heard about. She could, however, imagine the disappointment and the cajoling. Her parents had her life planned out for her already. She was going to get into a good undergrad school, she was going to pass the LSAT and get into Harvard, then she would get married, and she would give them grandkids. When she was 14, she told her dad she wanted to be a chef so she could make all kinds of delicious food; he didn't tell her that she couldn't, but he said, "Chefs don't make a lot of money unless they open up a chain of restaurants, sweetie."

Then, he asked her to try cooking him something, laughing when it came out a disaster, instead of encouraging her to try again. She set it aside. Her mother was much the same, pushing and prodding at Rachel until she got what she wanted, which was why there were dozens of pictures of her sitting on top of a wooden horse in the family photo albums

So, maybe her parents wouldn't hate her or reject her for wanting to spend the rest of her life with Sandra Moffett, but they would let her know how much easier—how much better it would be if only she liked men. She kept her feelings to herself and, when her mother asked if there were any boys at school she was interested in, she looked to her father and said, "None of the boys at my school are gonna end up at Harvard, mom." He smiled. For that moment, it was enough.


	2. Ferris Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Ferris Wheel
> 
> I'm way more iffy about this chapter than I was about the first. I've discovered I have a way harder time writing from Jessica's PoV than I do Rachel's, but it's good practice for my full length fic.

Day 8-Ferris Wheel

Jessica always knew she was different. Maybe she could never quite put her finger on what it was that made her feel like she didn't belong, but she knew it was there. Somehow, though, nobody else seemed to notice. She was popular at school, captain of the debate team, and co-captain of the tennis team. She got straight As and listened to her mama when she told Jessica to keep her eyes off of boys and on her books. When she got accepted into Harvard's undergraduate program with a substantial scholarship offer, her parents threw her a celebration dinner, and at the end of the night her mama told her, "Don't start slacking just because you're in college now, you need to hang onto that scholarship, keep your eyes on your books." Jessica smiled and nodded along, not wanting to tell her mom just how easy that would be. Not once had she met a boy who could turn her head, and she doubted that would change at college. 

For the most part she was right, the people at Harvard were richer, more conniving and clever even, but the boys were largely the same. The biggest difference she could notice was that she could count the number of black students at the university, as opposed to the endless wave of white students, and she knew she was going to have to work double time to make sure she didn't get crushed beneath that wave. Her first step was enrolling in student groups, one of which was started by and made for the black students on campus. It was there that she met Quentin Sainz, a young man looking to get a doctorate in Chemistry, and a minor degree in business.

He told her it was his dream to open his own pharmaceutical company, so he could develop affordable, lifesaving medicine. It was a good dream.

Over the years they developed a close friendship, often studying together or grabbing some dinner at 2am when they realized they'd been so swamped studying they forgot to eat. It was good—Harvard was good, but still Jessica couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something, that what made her feel so out of place her whole life was just outside her grasp. She told herself she didn’t have the time to think about it, but it ate at her still. On graduation day Quentin asked her out on a date in front of her mama, and Jessica held her breath, waiting for Virginia Pearson to grab Quentin by the ear and tell him that Jessica had more important things to worry about than dating and men. But her mom just smiled and all at once Jessica realized she was past the point of using school as an excuse to fend off advances, or even hiding behind her mama's skirt. What else could she do but say yes?

They go out regularly while Jessica attends law school and when Quentin wants to take their relationship to the next level, to be intimate with her, the word “abstinence” is out of Jessica's mouth before she can stop to think about it. She doesn’t actually believe in it, her parents never pressured her to go to church, especially when she had grades and extracurricular events to keep up with. When she wracks her brain for why she said it in the first place she comes up empty, with only the vague sensation that it's tied to something bigger. But Quentin is a good man and he backs off; he says he loves her, that he'll wait, but the hole in Jessica grows bigger and bigger.

Almost a year before she’s set to graduate from Harvard Law, the carnival comes into town. Quentin asks her to go when he knows she doesn’t have any impending exams or homework she needs to get done. They wander around the carnival for hours, meandering in front of obviously rigged game booths, dodging kids with sticky fingers fueled by sugar highs, and grabbing some funnel cake just for the novelty of it. When the night seems to be drawing to a close Quentin leads her over to the Ferris wheel. They only have to wait in line for a couple of minutes before they're seated together in a gondola and start to make their slow ascent, Quentin is strangely silent while the gondola climbs up, up, up. Jessica pays it no mind up until the gondola lurches to a stop once they hit the peak of the Ferris wheel.

She looks over at Quentin to crack a joke about how this being the only carnival ride to break down is just their luck, only to find him holding a small black box in his hand. He looks beyond nervous, but Jessica feels like all the air in the world has been sucked away. All she can think as he opens the box almost excruciatingly slowly is 'No. No. God no.' But despite her frantic wishing that he would just stop, Quentin holds the ring out to her, "Jessica," he starts, "will you marry me?"

She feels frozen, like she can't even blink, while her mind races, 'No.' Is what she wants to say. 'I can't, I've never loved you and I don't think I ever could. I couldn't ever....' She blinks and there are tears falling down her cheeks, 'I could never love a man.' But how can she say that? How can she live with the consequences once the thought has left her lips? The answer is that she can't, so, what else could she do but say yes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to include a little thanks to my best friend Nicole for proofreading! thanks Nicole :^) next chapter coming soon


	3. It's Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11: It's Okay

Rachel is 19 when she kisses a girl for the first time. She’s been away from home at college for nearly a year but, somehow, it never occurred to her before that moment that it meant she was free. Her mother called her once a week—once every two weeks if she had other plans on their usual day. The questions she often subjected Rachel to back home were just as rapid fire and prying as they always were, yet more easily fielded by truths that Rachel was busy, that she was tired, that she needed to go out to grab dinner before the student café closed. Her father, for the most part, seemed content to live and let live, trusting her while she was away at school because she never gave him a reason not to; and before Carmella leaned in to kiss her at a “study group” that had very quickly devolved into a party, she may never have given him a reason to think otherwise.

But Carmella does kiss her. And maybe her lips aren't shiny with pineapple lip-gloss, but they’re soft and warm and the feeling of another girl's mouth pressed so intimately against her own makes her chest expand like her heart is going to burst with emotion. They spent the night they should’ve been spending going over their test review necking on the couch while the party continued around them. By the time Rachel stumbles back to her dorm room late into the night with puffy lips and sandy eyes she feels like maybe she can live the life she wants at college. She'll worry about the rest of it later.

\--

Jessica spends five years married to Quentin.

When she said yes to his proposal, it was because she couldn't handle the thought of being anything other than straight. When she was standing in a backroom at the chapel staring at herself in the mirror, the only thing that kept her from tearing off her dress and running as fast and as far away as her feet could take her, was her own self assurances that she could do this. So what if she wasn’t able to love her husband? There were countless women before her who had undoubtedly been in the exact same scenario and took the truth in their hearts to their graves.

Being out was something for people whose lives were so wrapped up in being out that they had resources and support networks to fall back on. Being out was for people who didn’t have ladders to climb and connections to make. So she walked down the aisle, thinking it was the end for that chapter of her life.

But five years pass—five years of living together as man and wife, while Jessica gets her start at a corporate law office in downtown Manhattan—and it turns out that chapter didn’t have quite as clean of an ending as she thought it would. Quentin is sitting with her on their couch, his hands cupped gently around hers while he speaks, “Jess, I know something is wrong. You're spending too much time at the office for it not to be about avoiding coming home.”

She bristles at the accusation appropriately, “Quentin, I am the only black woman ever hired at my firm as a lawyer. I have to work ten times harder than any of the other junior partners, which means I have to put in more time.”

Quentin shakes his head, “Jess, you’ve more than earned your place at the table in the four years you’ve been working there. You could afford to cut your workload if you wanted to, but when you slink home in the early hours of the morning you won’t even come to bed. You sleep on this couch, you refuse me when I offer to bring you lunch at the office, and whenever you do have a day to stay home you spend it working at the kitchen table pretending like I'm not less than ten feet from you.”

Jessica's shoulders grow heavier and heavier with guilt, “I guess I didn’t realize...”

Quentin sighs, “Maybe not consciously, but I know something is eating at you, Jess. I know there’s something broken here and I want to fix it. I'll do anything. I'll push launching my own pharmaceutical company so I can spend more time at home; I'll get us an appointment with a relationship counselor; hell I'll buy us a copy of the Kama Sutra if that’s what it takes.” Quentin says the last bit in a joking manner, but Jessica knows he’s serious. She knows he loves her, that he wants them to be together so much he'll do anything she asks of him.

Her mind runs through the scenarios faster than she can blink—a skill honed in the courtroom. She can go along with the relationship counseling, but there’s too big of a chance that the counselor will find her out. She can cut back her hours at work, but she really does have a lot to do. She can try to engage with him the same way she did in college as his girlfriend, but as her husband he'll expect more than that from her. The best option, the quickest and cleanest option, strikes her like a bolt of lightning.

When she married Quentin it felt like everyone who looked at her knew the truth about her, like the only thing shielding her from discovery was the ring he'd put on her finger. Now she knows that if her own mother couldn’t figure her out after she lived under her roof for eighteen years, it's unlikely that a random passerby or a co-worker will somehow figure it out. Quentin isn’t a shield. Quentin is a man; a good man and one of her best friends in the world. All she’s doing by staying married to him is making him miserable. So, she squares her shoulders, takes a steadying breath, and says, “I want a divorce.”

\--

Rachel finds out she’s been hired as a paralegal for Pearson Hardman right after she discovers that she failed her LSAT. She applied for the job because it was her dream to work under Jessica Pearson at one of the most prolific law firms in New York City; she figured it wouldn’t hurt to start making an impression in a position often filled by graduates on the cusp of law school. Plus it was a way to supplement her income so she wouldn’t have to live on a school campus for another three years. Now, she’s going to be behind a good number of her peers, save the career paralegals. She doesn’t even want to think about what she’s going to tell her parents. Her father is probably going to want her to try again right away, though her mother will recognize it's smarter to give herself time to study more before making another attempt.

She worries so much about her LSAT results that she forgets to be excited about working for Pearson Hardman. She keeps forgetting up until she's standing in a hallway, holding a stack of still warm copies, staring at Jessica Pearson in the flesh.

Jessica is everything Rachel expected and more. She’s beautiful, statuesque, and radiates an aura that makes Rachel want to fall at her feet. Then when she opens her mouth to ask, “Are those the copies I asked for?” Rachel feels like she's been struck by lightning. All she can manage to do in her state is nod shyly, trembling like a leaf when she holds out the stack of papers to Jessica.

Jessica smiles patiently, though the slight quirk on the right side of her mouth is probably a sign that trying to hide her amusement. She thanks Rachel for the copies so Rachel takes that as her cue to scurry away with at least some of her dignity in tact. She keeps her nose to the grindstone and works just as hard as she always does, but for the rest of the day it's like everything is covered in a rose colored haze.

Somehow, she knows that this is a turning point. This is exactly how her life was supposed to go and standing with Jessica Pearson in that hallway for those few moments, was exactly where she was supposed to be. That feeling carries her through the phone conversation where she finally tells her parents she failed the LSAT.

\--

Once Jessica's noticed Rachel Zane it's like she can’t stop noticing her. Rachel is a new paralegal at the firm, graduated in the top 12% of her class at Columbia, and she’s a Harvard hopeful just like a lot of her first year peers. She’s also the daughter of one of New York's most well known city contracted prosecutors with his own private practice. Jessica knows if Rachel plays her cards right—with her credentials—she could be a senior partner at the firm within the next ten to fifteen years. And if professional interest was the only kind of interest Jessica took in her there wouldn’t be a problem, but it isn’t. Along with her résumé and her connections, Jessica also notices the shapely curve of her calves, the low cut of her blouses, and the full pillow of her lips.

Jessica has been divorced from Quentin for nearly ten years now, but in all that time she’s never once had a romantic entanglement with a woman. At first, it was about making sure she could advance her career without an additional anchor weighing her down; she already had two as it was, one named misogyny, the other named racism. Then she became a senior partner and conspired with Daniel Hardman to oust the old name partners, putting her own name on the door and ensuring that she never answered to anyone but herself. Now, she knows it's fear holding her back. The first time she slept with a woman the panic that hit her was nearly overwhelming and consequently it's a vice she rarely indulges in.

Yet, there’s something almost magnetic about Rachel. It scares her almost as much as it thrills her.

\--

Rachel hasn’t been on a date since her and her girlfriend broke up right before graduation. Not out of heartbreak, exactly. They hadn’t been too serious, seeing as Rachel still wasn’t out to her parents and Sarah had always intended to move back to California once she finished her pre-med program at Columbia. At least if it was about heartbreak Rachel could justify it to herself when she brushes off her friend's attempts to set her up with someone. In reality it's something that makes her feel… silly. It's almost like she’s holding her breath, anticipating something big, but if anyone asked her just what that something was she wouldn’t be able to explain it.

Sometimes, though, when she caught Jessica Pearson's eyes from across the office floor, she thought she had an inkling of just what she was waiting for. Other times, those thoughts felt so absolutely outlandish it nearly made her break down in hysterics. She knew it was only natural for her to have a crush on Jessica, it practically came as a package with the hero worship, but thinking Jessica might be interested in women and moreover interested in her was bordering on delusional. She knew that. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling?

It comes to a head on a rainy day in August, nearly two years after she first started working for Pearson Hardman. The rain is more of a downpour and even with her raincoat and her umbrella Rachel can feel the water soaking through her shoes until she can’t take it anymore and ducks into the nearest store, which turns out to be a very exclusive looking women's boutique. But the sales associate is incredibly polite, probably because Rachel is wearing a $500 raincoat. She even winces when she sees the state of Rachel's Michael Kors boots. She's led over to a settee where the sales girl offers to set her shoes in the backroom to dry. It's while she’s sitting there in her socks that she notices Jessica Pearson sitting no more than ten feet from her with a cup of tea and another sales associate showing off the season's latest women's suits.

Her first thought is that this boutique might be a little bit out of her price range. It was a fit of bad luck that she happened to be wearing her most expensive pair of shoes today and the raincoat was a splurge justified by the fact that she only needed one. Her credit card bill is definitely going to take a hit. The thought immediately after that is that her boss is probably going to look over and see her with no shoes on without context. When she sees Jessica's head start to turn toward her she briefly considers sprinting out the door, back into the rain. The thought is extinguished when she sees Jessica is already looking at her.

Unsure of what else to do, Rachel awkwardly waves at her and immediately feels stupid for doing so. Jessica doesn’t seem to mind, though, if her smile and the hand gesture for Rachel to join her are any indication. She, again, contemplates booking it. The chances of her embarrassing herself further are worryingly high and at least if she runs now she'll just look crazy instead of woefully incompetent. But when Jessica starts to look uncertain, like it only just occurred to her that Rachel is an employee who might not want to socialize with her outside of work, Rachel sucks it up and goes over. “Hello Ms. Pearson.”

Jessica makes a gesture to dismiss the sales associate before inviting Rachel to sit down, “Hello Ms. Zane.”

\--

Years later, Jessica knows she’ll have no idea how it escalated from running into each other while shopping to her sitting on Rachel's couch, discussing strategy for tackling the LSAT. Yet, that’s where she finds herself all the same.

It surprised her to learn that Rachel failed the LSAT on the first try, she knew it was more common than not, just not usually with people who performed well enough to get hired at her firm. Rachel explained that she's not much of a test taker. Every LSAT she’s taken since—numbering four total—has yielded the same results. She even says that her poor performance under testing conditions is what kept her our of the top ten or even five percent of her class. And Jessica knows it's true.

Even from just the few hours they’ve spent together, Jessica can tell Rachel has a passion for law matched by her comprehension of the subject, with near unrivaled competence to boot. She’s a favorite go-to paralegal at the firm already, even among the senior partners. Rachel has the potential to go far. She just needs to be able to get into law school.

“Have you considered trying to get into somewhere besides Harvard? I'm not saying you wouldn’t be a good fit, but if you’re struggling to pass there’s a chance that even if you do your scores won’t be good enough to catch the attention of the admissions staff.” Rachel nods along like she's already considered it.

“I know, but… Pearson Hardman only hires Harvard graduates and I want to work for Pearson Hardman,” she flushes an attractive shade of red and turns her gaze away.

“Rachel, there are plenty of law firms in the city who pay just as well as we do.” Jessica prods in amusement, she knows her firm is one of the best in the city, but that’s only because of their long-standing tradition of hiring the cream of the crop from Harvard Law School. The only way other law firms can compete with their associate pool is by enticing them away with fat paychecks.

Rachel huffs, “I know. It would definitely be more convenient, but I. Well. I want to work for you. You're the best of the best and there's no other law firm in the world that has you.”

This time, Jessica is the one who flushes, though she attempts to subtly disguise it by taking a drink of water. Despite her position, her subordinates aren’t much for brown nosing; at least, not the ones who last long. They treat her with respect, some even with reverence, but it's rare they pay her unsolicited compliments.

It’s the beginning of something, but it's something she’s too afraid to admit to herself.

\--

After that rainy day in August they seek out each other more and more often. Now, when caught in the elevator or the hallway with Jessica, Rachel speaks as breezily as she does with any of her other friends. They sometimes even make arrangements to meet up outside of work, grabbing lunch together at a hip new bistro, or relaxing on Rachel's couch on the evenings they both have off. All the while Rachel becomes more and more convinced that maybe not as delusional as she thought she was.

Sometimes she'll catch Jessica staring at her in a way that makes tingles rush down her spine. Some of their outings are more akin to dates than a friendly hang out and even their touches linger in a decidedly non platonic way. But just when Rachel thinks it's all building up into something more, Jessica pulls away. She seems to deliberately keep her eyes and her hands to herself, rarely touching or looking at Rachel. It sends a mess of conflicting signals that leave Rachel paralyzed with the decision on whether or not to make the first move toward something overtly romantic. She has no way of knowing whether Jessica pulls away because of her own discomfort or any discomfort she’s imagining on Rachel's end. It's all the more frustrating because she’s half in love with Jessica already.

\--

Jessica knows she’s closer to Rachel than what could be considered appropriate. More than once she’s become aware of pushing Rachel's hair out of her face mid-gesture, had to hastily snap her gaze away because it had unintentionally been focused on the shape of Rachel's lips again. She felt like she was being crushed under the weight of her feelings for Rachel, bursting at the seems with longings she thought she could effectively bury. She doesn’t know if it's because Rachel is the first person she’s let come so close in years, or if it's because she’s beaten down after years of fighting this battle, but she knows she has to get it under control. A task that’s easier said than done, when she can’t bear to cut herself off from Rachel entirely.

She can handle not being able to press their legs together when they’re sitting across from each other at a table or beside one another on the couch, but the thought of avoiding Rachel—of even unintentionally hurting her feelings—is too much to ask of herself. She's so caught up in her own conflicting feelings that it doesn't occur to her to consider Rachel's feelings. Even if on some level she’s noticed that Rachel shows all the same signs as her: the prolonged eye contact, the lingering touches, the light and casual flirting; it's scary to think of it beyond a surface level.

She doesn’t have the luxury of pushing those thoughts away when Rachel bridges the distance between them, hesitating for only a second—as though expecting Jessica to pull away—before kissing her. For a moment just as brief as Rachel's hesitation, Jessica feels the sweet release of surrender. Rachel's lips are soft and giving against her own and her hands soothe where they smooth over her arms and shoulders. It's bliss; it's terrifying; she pulls away.

A flash of hurt passes over Rachel's face, but she quickly schools her expression I to a carefully neutral mask. It makes Jessica's heart squeeze painfully in her chest to know she caused that hurt. She wants to tell Rachel not to cut herself off, that she’s just scared of what falling in love with a woman could mean. She's never had to think about anything a relationship with a woman would entail outside of the social and professional consequences.

“I’m sorry,” she manages to get out, even though it feels like there’s not enough air in her lungs to speak, “I have to go.” Then she’s rushing out the door, feeling impotent and cowardly.

\--

Rachel can only talk herself into believing something false for so long. The first week Jessica cut contact with her she convinced herself Jessica just needed some space. She thought after some time apart they could talk about what happened. This was even easier for Rachel to convince herself of because she needed a break after her humiliating little stunt. Another week passes by and even though she feels rearing to go for any hypothetical discussion Jessica will want to have with her, she convinces herself that Jessica just hasn’t hit the same point as her yet. That’s why Jessica has been suspiciously absent from the corridors of Pearson Hardman and not calling her back when she leaves voicemails at her home number. When a month passes by Rachel with no change she has to admit to herself that she’s ruined her friendship with the most incredible woman she’s likely to ever know.

It's a bitter pill to swallow. In an attempt to cope, she goes out for a night of drinking and raucous partying with her friends. But when she wakes up in the morning with a splitting headache, feeling like something crawled in her mouth to die, her friends tell her all she accomplished was crying about Jessica and throwing up on the hood of some poor stranger's car. They all give her varying degrees of advice, ranging from “eat yourself again” to “I’ve got someone I've been wanting you to meet.” None of it sounds particularly appealing.

Despite everything going on she stays at the top of her game at work, somehow managing to get a promotion while in the midst of her crisis. It isn’t until she’s approached by Donna that she realizes she might not be holding herself together as well as she thought she was. She’s going about business as usual in her shiny new office when Donna struts in. “You. Me. Lunch. Come on.” Rachel blinks up at her in confusion, but before she can get out a single word Donna is already walking back out, seemingly expecting Rachel to follow after her.

She does. Donna is one of the most terrifying people at Pearson Hardman despite her position as an assistant. The partner she works for is the best of the best and probably the only person in the building who could even hope to go toe to toe with Jessica. They wind their way through the cubicles to the elevators, make their way down to the street, and hail a cab to a small deli/café. It's like getting swept up in a tornado named Donna: one moment you know exactly where you are and what doing, the next you’re scattered in every direction for fifty miles. Donna doesn’t give her any time to recover before laying into her.

“What’s been going on with you and the big boss?” Donna probes with a healthy dose of unsettling eye contact.

Rachel flounders “Wh-What?”

Donna shakes a finger at her, “Ah-ah. No playing dumb with me missy. I notice everything that goes on in that office especially when it comes to people who can affect Harvey, and Jessica is at the top of that particular list.”

Rachel huffs out a breath, “We just… kind of bumped into each other outside of work and started hanging out. We're friends,” she falters and a lance of pain goes through her heart, “or, at least. We were friends. I made it awkward and I don't know if I have the right to call her that much anymore.”

“Let me guess, you professed your undying love to her?” Donna question in a way that is simultaneously knowing and said in a way that Rachel can brush it off as a joke if she chooses. Rachel recognizes the gesture for what it is, a tentative extension to come out when you’re not sure if the person you’re speaking to is still in the closet. At once, Rachel knows she’s in the company of a comrade, for lack of a better word (because they certainly aren’t friends yet and ally implies Donna isn’t batting on the same team), and feels at ease.

“You're almost right on target. I kissed her. I must've mixed up my signals or read too much into something, because I kissed her and it ruined everything.”

Donna shakes her head, “No. You didn’t get anything mixed up. I have a spot on sense for these kind of things and Jessica is most definitely a women only ride.”

Rachel glares petulantly at her, “Just because she’s gay doesn’t mean she wants to be with me.”

Donna holds up her hands in acquiescence, “Point. All I'm saying is that we're a trickier target to pin down. Finding a good woman is a lot like wrangling a bull, sometimes you have to back them into a corner.” Rachel snorts.

“That comparison doesn’t track at all.”

“Hey,” Donna objects in mock offense, “I would know better than you,” she holds up her left hand to display an engagement ring to illustrate her point.

“Huh.”

\--

Life without Rachel is like living with a piece of herself missing, like a part of her is tethered to Rachel and she severed it in the same instant she severed contact with Rachel. She knows she has nobody to blame but herself and although she’s far too busy to lament over this fact at work, what else is her free time for if not wallowing?

She cracks open a $160 bottle of wine with some Ben&Jerry’s and settles in for a night of true crime documentaries. She’s halfway through a story about a couple being wrongfully convicted for the death of their daughter when she hears her landline go off. She huffs discontentedly, but obligingly pauses her documentary to pick up the phone; she’s used to being called away from her days off to deal with this that or the other incident. “Hello, Jessica Pearson speaking.”

“Yes, Ms. Pearson, this is the watchman. I have a Ms. Rachel Zane here to see you, she says you’ve been expecting her?” Rachel nearly drops the receiver in her alarm, going completely silent over the line. “Hello? Ms. Pearson? Are you there?”

She scrambles for something, anything to say, “Yes, let her up, please,” is what she ends up going with.

“Right away, Ms. Pearson.”

The second he hangs up Jessica scrambles to get herself decent, een lounging about her home in a robe with her hair pinned up into a silk scarf. She hastily shakes her hair free and rushes to put on at least a pair of yoga pants and a thermal t-shirt. Rachel arrives in her private elevator just as Jessica in storing the ice cream back in her freezer, though the bottle of wine and her almost comically large wine glass are still sat on the table. When she steps into Jessica's space, it's like she’s lit up the room while also sucking the air from it. Jessica doesn’t know what to do with herself.

“I'm sorry for just showing up out of the blue like this but...” she huffs out a defeated breath, “I didn’t know how else to get you to talk to me about what happened between us.”

“I’m sorry,” Jessica says in a rush, but she holds the rest back.

Rachel seems to sense it, because her look of contrition morphs into one of frustration, “Jessica, you treat me like this just because I made one mistake. I apologized and you don’t have to worry, I got the message.”

“Message?” Jessica asks and the question sounds faint even to her own ears.

“Yes. I know you don’t… feel the way about me that I do about you. I read the situation wrong and I acted without thinking, but I don’t want it to cost me your friendship,” to Jessica's horror frustrated tears start to well up in Rachel's eyes, “I couldn’t live with myself if I drove you away like that when you're one of the most spectacular people I've ever met.”

Jessica feels like she’s being pulled in every direction at once and when a tear finally slips free from Rachel's eye to slide down her adorable freckled cheek, she can’t take it anymore. She bursts, “I was married.”

“What?” Rachel looks confused now instead of on the brink of bawling. It's enough to keep the wind in Jessica's sails.

“I was married. The night he proposed I realized that I'm only attracted to women, but I said yes because I was scared of the idea of having to live my life as a lesbian. All I could think about was how it would affect the way people saw me, and how it would hinder my career. So I married him and made the both of us miserable.

Rachel seems to take a moment to digest this information, “I figured you weren’t out yet, but… Jessica, when did you get divorced?”

Jessica laughs, but it sounds strangled, almost hysterical, “Twelve years ago.” Rachel sucks in a breath. “I’ve thought about at least trying to live the life I want in secret, but it… terrifies me. I spent so long telling myself that being a lesbian was something that could ruin my life before it even began, that now—even when I'm a success surrounded by a world more accepting than what I grew up with--I'm still too paralyzed by that fear to move.” Distantly, Jessica realizes she’s sobbing, “I can’t even have a no strings attached relationship with another woman without feeling like everyone around me will somehow know.”

Rachel is now close enough to touch, having been steadily advancing toward her as Jessica poured her heart out. Jessica takes comfort in the warm press of Rachel's hands against her tear stained cheeks. “I've never felt the way I feel about you about anyone before. I'm scared of it,” she looks down into Rachel's eyes, “but I love you, Rachel. I love you.”

Rachel draws her into a kiss, deeper and more desperate than the one they’d shared on her couch over a month ago. When they part just enough to be able to look each other in the face, Rachel smiles tearfully at her, “It's okay, Jessica. I love you too.” She leans forward to press her forehead into the space where Jessica's neck meets her shoulder. “We'll figure out the rest together. You're not alone in this anymore. It's okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got it in down to the wire!! it's nearly midnight here but i managed to get it done. I didn't have time to get it to Nicole but maybe I'll edit it once it's out in its entirety.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Stuffed Animal
> 
> ohhhb I'm nearly an hour late and it's un-beta'd again but I'm glad I got it up :') this is the last time I so my art prep work before my writing prep work

Jessica and Rachel have been together for a year when the state fair opens up for business.

Needless to say, carnivals and fairs hold a variety of complicated memories for Jessica. It was where her now ex-husband proposed to her, it was where she realized she was a lesbian, and it was where she spent every anniversary as a closeted married woman. But Rachel loves the annual state fair held in upstate New York and Jessica loves Rachel, so they pack up a rental car for the day and make the drive.

The state fair greets them with rows of colorful flags strung up over the entrance sign, a large gaudy piece of metalwork with an array of LED lights meant to flash a cornucopia of light once the sun goes down. The parking lot is more gravel and dirt than real pavement, with patches of grass quickly trampled underfoot by excited children and their watchful parents. It's not too dissimilar from the carnivals Quentin would bring her to in Jersey, but just different enough that Jessica can feel something in her chest loosen. Today isn’t supposed to be about her past, unlike so many other days of her life. She’s here to create new memories with the woman she loves; she looks over to Rachel to find the woman's face lit up in excitement.

Rachel, seemingly unable to contain herself for another moment, grabs her hand and leads her to the entrance where a line of teenage employees are selling paper bracelets and rolls of tickets. “It was just the tickets when I was a kid,” Rachel comments idly while they wait in line. “My parents only ever bought enough for a few game stands and the carousel,” she shudders, “I hated the carousel.”

Jessica smiles, “Then why did they keep buying tickets for it?” Rachel is silent for a beat, enough time for them to move up in the line.

“I don’t know.” Rachel looks thoughtful now more than excited, so Jessica wraps her arm around her girlfriend and plants an affectionate kiss on her head. It garners a few glances, but Jessica has found that people are more willing to believe the relationship between her and Rachel is platonic than make a comment.

They make it to the front of the line to purchase a couple of all access bracelets for a price that’s, frankly, a little astonishing for a fair. Rachel doesn’t complain however, so neither does Jessica. “What do you want to do first?” Rachel asks while fiddling around with her bracelet so it can sit on her wrist in harmony with her watch—a gift from Jessica.

Jessica's eyes roam over what she can see of the fair grounds, her heart stuttering when she catches sight of the ferris wheel. “How about the roller coaster?” Rachel grins from ear to ear.

“It's like you read my mind.”

\--

They spend several hours at the fair and most of it seems to be waiting in lines. “It didn’t seem this busy when I was a kid,” Rachel comments, “maybe because if I got bored of waiting around I could just take a nap on my dad.”

“This is the most you’ve ever talked about your parents,” Jessica can’t help but comment. It's true, but probably not prudent to mention. Rachel seems more reluctant even than Jessica to bring up her parents in their relationship and while at first it gave Jessica a great sense of comfort to know that even her more experienced girlfriend got nervous about being out, the closer they got the more curious she became. Jessica had always been close with her parents, in fact she was closer to them than she ever realized once she made the decision to come out. They welcomed her with open arms, all sharing a cry over the fear and hurt Jessica experienced living in the closet and feeling obligated to marry a man. Rachel was even able to come out to Long Island with her a few times for family dinner nights. But they havent discussed the possibility of Jessica meeting Rachel's parents yet, even though they’ve already started talking about moving in together.

Rachel looks a bit surprised by the comment, but not upset, “I guess it is. I'm not used to the thought of my parents being in the equation when it comes to my relationships,” she toes her flats in the dirt, “maybe it's a little immature but I've always kind of thought I would just…. I don’t know, keep it from them until I walked into their house with a ring on my finger and a baby in my hip.” She immediately turns a glowing vermilion. “Not that I'm thinking about us having kids already!” She slaps her hands over her mouth when she realizes just how loud she’s being.

Jessica cant help but laugh. “It’s okay, Rachel, go on.” Jessica doesn’t disclose that she’s also been thinking that far ahead about her future with Rachel, mostly because she’s afraid steam will start coming out of her ears if her temperature raises another degree.

Rachel laughs back a little weakly and clears her throat, “But uh, yeah. I guess I've just always been afraid of not being what they expect me to be. My father's still disappointed that I'm not in law school yet and my mother is better at hiding it but I know she is too. If I dropped the L bomb on them it would either make things infinitely worse or they would just drop the law school thing to focus on this.”

“Do you really think your parents won’t accept you,” Jessica asks sadly, pushing a bit of Rachel's hair away from her face.

She shrugs, leaning into the brief touch, “It might just be all in my head, but I can’t know that for sure and why take the risk?” She looks Jessica in the eyes, “If I want to marry you and have 2.5 kids with you, nobody gets a say in that except the two of us.” Jessica's heart goes wild in her chest.

“Come on,” she says, before she can do something completely insane like make out with Rachel in full view of the tilt-o-whirl. “Let’s go try the ring toss.”

They make their way across the fair grounds to the booth in question, where a middle aged man in a baseball cap and a staff shirt is calling out jovially to passers-by to come try their skill. Jessica shows the man her bracelet and he nods, “Good for three rings, but if you want any more you've gotta pay by the ring,” he informs her.

Rachel leans in to whisper, “That’s how they get you.”

Jessica's shoulders shake with restrained laughter even while the booth worker is handing her the multicolored plastic rings. “How many do I have to get for the bear holding the rose?” she asks the man.

He scratches his stubbly chin, “Normally it'd be five, but that system seems a bit rigged to me,” he winks at them playfully, “so if you can get all three in one shot I'll give it to you.”

Jessica nods and carefully considers her approach. Most of the glass bottles are crammed too tightly together for it to even be feasible to get a ring around one of them, but there’s one bottle off too the side just far enough away that it's possible to land if she gets it just right. So she takes aim and she tosses. The ring goes around the bottle and Rachel can barely contain her excited cheer.

The man in the booth eyes her, a faint smile on his lips, “Alright, but you gotta get three separate targets maam, remember that.” Jessica nods, but after a minute of searching for another opening she finds none. She’s forced to toss her rings into the fray and hope for the best. None of the rest land, of course, but the man at the booth still hands her a palm sized teddy bear for her pitiful one ring score.

Jessica immediately hands it over to Rachel, who seems fit to burst with joy, “I love it,” she declares while they continue making their way through the fair.

“I could’ve gotten you a bigger one if these games weren’t so obviously rigged,” Jessica sighs.

Rachel shushes her, “Nobody’s ever won me something at the booths like that. It's romantic and I won’t hear another word to disparage my present just because she’s on the scrawny side.”

“I love you,” Jessica sighs.

Rachel looks pleased, “Of course you do. What do you want to do next? My vote is for the Ferris wheel.” Rachel starts ambling in that direction and, smitten as she is, Jessica follows. As they’re getting strapped into the carriage via a safety bar Jessica can’t help but think of Quentin, but now what she feels is more complex, peaceful even. Sitting next to Rachel, watching her coo over her pint-sized teddy bear, Jessica knows this is how her life was always meant to be. Because if all the fear and the sadness and the pain was leading her to Rachel all long, it was all worth it. Whatever happens in the future, Jessica knows they were meant to be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> thank you to Michelle for the suggestion on how to fill this specific prompt, which really inspired the whole premise of the story! Now that it's done I'll probably have it proofread and edit the last two chapters accordingly. thanks to anyone who read this trash as is!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my beautiful friend Bone for proofreading ilu. Updates will coincide with the prompt days :^)


End file.
